The Hands of Angels
by Paint-The-World-Mad
Summary: The intriguing mystery of a London park brings hunters Sam & Dean Winchester, detectives John and Sherlock, and the time traveling duo the Doctor and Rose together for a wild and entirely unexpected adventure. (honestly, the cursing puts it at borderline rated T. Just so you know.)
1. Part 1

(A/N) So. This is actually the first fic I ever finished, so I thought I might as well put it out to the public. It's not wonderfully well written, it's short, and the format didn't really fit the format this website supports, but oh well. This fic has five parts, with three chapters to each part. Because the individual chapters are really short, I'm posting the parts together. This is a SuperWhoLock fanfic. It takes place in the middle of the second season of Supernatural, the first season of Sherlock, and the second season of Doctor Who. It's mostly fluff, so enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 1

Virginia

Dean walked out of the club smiling and counting a large stack of twenties. Sam was sitting on the hood of the Impala browsing the obituaries. Tucking the newly-earned cash into his wallet, Dean approached him.

"Anything?"

"Not yet, no," Sam replied, his eyes still on the page. Dean nodded and grabbed a separate part of the paper. They sat in silence for a minute.

"Sam, look at this." Sam put down his paper and looked at the article Dean was pointing to. "Six people disappear over a space of ten days in the same place. Sounds like we should check it out."

"Where is it?" Sam inquired, hopping off the Impala's hood.

Dean looked back down, and groaned, "London."

"Well, looks like we're going to do some flying," Sam commented, trying to hide a smile.

"Not a word," Dean threatened as he and Sam both climbed into the car.

...

"And you're _sure_ we can't drive?"

"Dean, for the last time, no. We can't drive there, no we can't take the Impala, no, you can't stay home!"

"We can't at least take Baby? She'll get lonely!"

"Dean. We're leaving the car."

Dan paused, glaring. "Fine," he muttered.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, "Okay no get on the plane."

Grudgingly, Dean climbed aboard.

As they sat down, Sam handed a small mp3 player to Dean.

"What's this?"

"Metalica. Mostly so you don't drive me insane."

"It's not funny, Sam," Dean said, grabbing the mp3 player from his brother. Sam laughed as the plane took off.

* * *

Chapter 2

*BANG*

_Oh not again, _John thought as he approached his flat on Baker Street. Groceries still in hand, he ran up the stairs and into the flat.

"Sherlock! What the-"

"Quiet John. I'm conducting an interrogation." Cautiously, John stepped into the flat to see Sherlock standing in the middle of the living room, gun in hand, and aiming it at the head of a young, attractive female. Quietly, John slipped into the kitchen and began putting the food away, cringing at the severed ears in the fridge.

"I know you were the only one in the house at the time of your husband's death, but Lestrade won't accept it unless you say it, so spit it out!" Sherlock yelled from the lounge.

"It wasn't me! I didn't kill him, I promise!" the woman pleaded.

"Sure it wasn't you. The knife that stabbed your husband only had your fingerprints on the handle!"

"I use that knife for cooking!"

"Yes, obviously. And most of the fingerprints support that claim. HOWEVER, if you look closely, which not everyone did, some of those fingerprints were made with a thin layer of none other than your husband's blood. Not to mention your hands are fidgety and your eyes keep flitting to the left. Signs of a liar. I've closed this case, now confess out loud." There was a pause.

"It was an accident, I swear!"

"No it wasn't"

"I was angry, I'm so, so sorry!"

"You can tell that to someone else. I've done my job." He shooed her out of the flat and called Lestrade, "I've got your confession recorded. It was Megan Staples _just like I told you it would be."_ He hung up and collapsed onto the couch. "JOHN. This case was BORING."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. Maybe that park-based serial killer will be more interesting."

"Serial killer?"

John closed the cupboard. "Yes, Serial Killer. Six people have disappeared in the same park within then days, and the bodies were never found." He walked over to the table and opened his laptop, "Lestrade wanted you to check it out."

"Fine. Maybe this will be interesting. John, get your coat, we're going out." Sherlock exclaimed, jumping up. John stopped typing, sighed, and followed Sherlock out the door.

* * *

Chapter 3

The doors to the TARDIS flung open as Rose ran in, closely followed by the Doctor. "I am SO glad to be back here!" Rose exclaimed, running up to the console, before collapsing against the rail in a fit of giggles. "I can't believe you actually agreed to dance with that Santauran!"

The Doctor laughed, "All in a good day's work," he said, pushing buttons. "Next stop, Barcelona. The PLANET. Push that lever, would you?" Rose came up and pushed the lever he was indicating.

Finally, accompanied by the whirring of the brakes, the TARDIS landed. Rose ran outside and immediately ran back in.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"What?"

"Doctor, we're in London. Modern day London."

Confusion clouded the Doctor's face, "Oh. How did that happen?" He walked out, closely followed by Rose. "We have landed in London," he stuck his tongue out, "two-thousand…six from the looks of it."

"What are we doing here in 2006?" Rose asked, looking up at him.

"I don't really know, let's explore, shall we?"

Rose grinned, "Let's." She took his hand and they began walking. They had landed in a beautifully landscaped park in the heart of London.

The Doctor stopped walking, "Something's wrong. I can taste it."

"_Or_ maybe no one's here." Rose turned to look at him, "Where _is _everyone?"

"I don't really know. Maybe that's why we're here. Let's find out!" He began running, Rose close behind him.

"Doctor!" Rose gasped. He looked behind him, and consequently crashed into someone's tall, muscular frame. "It's the Winchesters!" Rose continued.


	2. Part 2

CHAPTER 4

"H-How do you know us?" Sam asked, quite startled by the turn of events.

"We've worked together before, do you not recognize this face?" the doctor asked, staring quizzically at the two men.

"Um… no," Sam replied.

"Maybe it's their first time meeting us, Doctor," Rose suggested.

"Oh. OH. Right. Time travel. Hello I'm The Doctor, and this is Rose."

"Doctor Who? _Time travel?_ I did not let Sam drag my ass out here to talk to PSYCHOPATHS about TIME TRAVEL!" Dean practically shouted.

"You said you'd be difficult, but I didn't realize… Dean. You've seen a lot of weird things-" Rose began.

"What do you mean _I said._ I've never seen you before in my LIFE."

"Dean, Dean, calm down. Let's listen to them before we go spouting off judgments." Sam turned back to Rose, "You were saying?"

"We're time travelers. Sometimes we meet up with you two and work a 'Job' as you would call it. Seems like this is the earliest in your timeline we've ever shown up." She turned to The Doctor, "Does that mean Sherlock doesn't know us either?"

"Probably not," The Doctor grimaced, "oh, this is going to be an adventure."

"Wait, did you say Sherlock? Like Sherlock Holmes from the books?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Rose replied.

"I told you they were psychopaths," Dean muttered.

"Dean, I need to talk to you privately," Sam said, pulling Dean away from the other two. "Maybe they're telling the truth."

"And maybe they're the demons that we were trying to find in the first place!"

"Okay that is possible, but how would they know us?"

"They're demons, Sam. Demons or maybe some other supernatural thing, but they're not human."

"Okay. Well, we can test to see if they're demons."

Dean nodded and walked over to them, closely followed by Sam. He stopped directly in front of them. "Christo," Dean paused, "Okay well if you're not demons then what the hell are you?"

"Time travers, clearly," Came a deep voice from behind them.

* * *

CHAPTER 5

"She's human and he's an alien, last of his kind. They're obviously lovers, they landed here, but don't quite know what's going on in this time. They've met us all before."

"You've said some pretty crazy stuff Sherlock, but this is _by far _the strangest. You're sute you haven't been on cocaine again?" John asked.

"I've told you, I'm clean," Sherlock replied.

"Let me get this straight, _you're_ Sherlock Holmes?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Has my reputation reached the Americas?"

"Um… sorta," Sam answered.

"Can someone please explain what the hell is going on?!" John exclaimed.

"I already explained it, weren't you listening?" Sherlock replied.

"No, you didn't. You spouted off some random nonsense about those two being time-traveling aliens!"

"She's not an alien."

John paused, clearly frustrated. "Okay then, HOW do you know that?"

"He's strained, all of us being here is pushing his patience. This indicates that he wants to continue with whatever is going on here, but he's not sure what. Due to the strain I can see the pulse of two hearts beating in his chest, so alien. She's more patient, and I can only see one heartbeat, so human. She's been glancing at him with looks of worry or concern, possibly because of his slight frustration, so lover. She's wearing an ancient Chinese pendant around her neck, clearly authentic, but without any show of wear or aging. In a sense, it's new and also 4,000 years old, so they're obviously time travelers. I know how it is to be the only one of a kind; I know how it sits in a heart. I can see it in his eyes." He turned to John, "good enough?"

"It's all true," Rose piped in.

"Um, yeah, good. Wow. Time traveling?"

"Anywhere in time and space, we can get there," The Doctor replied. "I'm a Time Lord, so yes, alien, as you would put it."

"Fascinating. You might have to tell me more about it. That is, if I'm not busy on a case."

"Christo," Dean interjected.

"I assure you, I am not possessed."

"Just making sure."

"Possessed? Why would he be possessed? Like with a demon? Demons don't exist," John said.

"You'd be surprised," Sam replied.

"Demons are real, aliens are real, and we're hunting down a serial killer. This day could not get ANY crazier," John pointed out.

"A serial killer?" Why would the TARDIS bring us here for a serial killer?" Rose asked.

"I don't know," The Doctor replied.

* * *

CHAPTER 6

"Sam, if we came all the way out here for a serial killer so help me…" Dean started.

"No, it can't be a serial killer, they would have found bodies. Six people in ten days, you can't hide them like that. Serial killers _want_ to be found. This, this is new," Sherlock explained.

"Okay, so it's not a serial killer. This is… just great." John said, obviously exasperated.

"Six people have gone missing in ten days?" The Doctor asked.

"Yes. All in," John gestured to the surrounds, "this park. Most everyone is thinking that we've got a serial killer that's been snatching people out of the park and murdering them. Or kidnapping them, but kidnappers aren't that active and some of the victims are older."

"So it's _not _a serial killer?" Sam asked.

"No. Definitely not. But the question is, what _is _doing this?" The Doctor pondered.

"Demon, vengeful spirit, monster of some sort, where do we begin?" Dean said, clapping his hands together.

"Would the TARDIS bring us here for just a vengeful spirit?" Rose asked, looking up at The Doctor.

"_Just a vengeful spirit?_ What kind of people are you?!" Dean exclaimed.

"Well, there was that poltergeist in 19th century Colorado," the Doctor said in response to Rose's question.

"True, but this doesn't feel like a poltergeist. And the TARDIS took us to present-day Colorado first," Rose pointed out.

"Right… haven't been to London in a while. Have you noticed anything unusual recently?" The Doctor asked to the two London natives.

"Well, not really," John paused, "I guess there was all that hubbub over the angel statue."

"What angel statue?" Sherlock inquired.

John looked at Sherlock quizzically before continuing. "About two weeks ago this angel statue showed up in this park and no one would own up to putting it there. Then a few days later it was gone, so nobody thought any more of it. I'm surprised you didn't know about it," John explained.

"This angel statue, did it have its hands covering its face?" The Doctor asked, somewhat frantically.

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. This is bad; this is very, very bad."

"So what is it? A monster of some sort?" Sam asked.

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Doctor, what is it?" Rose pleaded.

"We've got a weeping angel on our hands."


	3. Part 3

CHAPTER 7

"A what?" Dean asked.

"A weeping angel. They're an alien race, creatures of the abstract. They feed off of _potential_ energy," The Doctor explained.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Dean exclaimed.

"It means that those six people aren't dead. _WEEELLLLLL _they might be. It depends on the angel."

"Still not following. Would you mind speaking English?"

"They touch you, zap you into the past and feed off of the energy of all they days you would've or might've had."

"So basically, don't get touched," Sam resounded.

"Ah, but it's not that easy. You see, they're quantum locked. In the sight of any living thing they literally turn to stone. As soon as you look away they can move. And they're fast. In the space of time it takes you to blink, they can move up to fifty meters. So don't blink."

"SO. How do we kill it?" Dean asked.

"Well I imagine if you got two to look at each other they would be frozen forever, hence the fact that they cover their eyes," Sherlock turned to the Doctor, "Am I correct in my assumption?"

"Absolutely. Unfortunatly, according to John we only have one angel." The Doctor paused, "Which is unsupervised." He turned and ran.

"Where the hell is he going?" Dean exclaimed.

"Back to the TARDIS, obviously," Sherlock replied.

"And what the hell is a TARDIS?"

"Time travel. It's his ship of sorts. Clearly high in energy, possibly the same or a similar kind of energy that these Weeping Angels feed on. If it gets to the TARDIS we're all very likely doomed," Sherlock smiled.

"Sure thing…"

"Sherlock, John, Winchesters," Rose gestured in the direction that The Doctor had ran, "Come!" She smiled and began running back across the park. Sherlock ran after her closely followed by John.

"I hate this," Dean muttered.

"I know you do," Sam replied as they ran after everyone else.

…

"_That _is the TARDIS? The all-powerful TARDIS is a _PHONE BOOTH?!_" Dean exclaimed.

"No, it's a police box," Sherlock corrected. "Americans," he muttered, turning away from Dean.

Dean harrumphed before saying, "Well I don't see any of these 'Weeping Angels!'"

"No, not yet." The Doctor paused, "But likely one is coming." Silence fell as the small group scanned the area.

"Doctor," Rose ventured, "Do you think you could locate it from inside the TARDIS?"

"Maybe. If it's active it _might_ give off a faint energy signature that we _might _be able to trace…"

"So, we should try?" Rose asked.

"We'll only be able to track it if it's moving."

"Obviously it will be moving. If it wants the TARDIS as much as you say it does, it will waste no time in getting here," Sherlock pointed out.

"Oh Sherlock you're brilliant!" The Doctor exclaimed. He threw open the door of the TARDIS and ran in. Rose motioned for the others to follow and went in herself. Dean walked in first, closely followed by Sam.

"Son of a bitch…" Dean breathed as he beheld the vast interior. "Sam are you seeing this?"

"Yeah," Sam paused, "This day could not get _any_ weirder."

John walked in and immediately turned around, "Sherlock, it's-"

"Bigger on the inside, yes I know."

Confusion clouded John's face, "I know you're smart, but this is alien technology. How…?"

"Simple really. It's so small on the outside there's no way it couldn't be bigger on the inside. And that's not including the fact that I saw five people walk into it before I did."

"Oh. Right."

"Christo."

"Dean, I assure you I am _not_ possessed."

"Just making sure," Dean paused, "Again."

"Enough bantering, I've located the angel," The Doctor called out, "And it's headed right for us!"

John turned to walk out the door. He opened in and stopped in his tracks. "HOLY SHIT."

* * *

CHAPTER 8

"John, what is it?" Rose exclaimed.

"There's an angel statue just a few meters from me," John's voice shook slightly.

"Don't blink. Keep looking at it!" The Doctor yelled, running over to where John stood, gazing out inot the park.

The angel was made of a rough, grey stone and was covering its face with its hands. Large feathered wings sprouted from its shoulders.

"I've seen some scary crap in my life, but that, that is a whole new level of demented," Dean commented, looking over John's shoulder.

"So." Sam started, "How do we kill it?"

"You can't, strictly speaking, 'kill' and angel because while you are looking at it, it doesn't exist. It's a stone. While you're not looking at it, it moves so quickly it would be impossible to locate and kill. The only way I've ever eliminated one's threat was by getting it to look at another one of its kind, like Sherlock was saying," The Doctor explained.

"What if you smashed it while it was still in a stone form?" Sam asked.

"No. Don't do that," The Doctor warned, glaring at Sam. But Sam wasn't looking, he was walking toward the angel.

John scanned the area and saw an old man hobbling toward them. "Who's that?" he pondered aloud before walking away from the group to the man. Rose followed. The Doctor and Sherlock glanced after their companions, Sam turned around to face them, and Dean BLINKED all at the same time. And in that split second that Dean's eyes were closed the angel moved. When he opened his eyes he saw Sam's form disintegrating.

"SAM!" Dean yelled. The Doctor and Sherlock's heads snapped back to the angel who now had an outstretched arm and a peaceful expression. Sam was nowhere to be seen. "Where did he go?" Dean yelled. He turned to the Doctor, "_Tell me where he went!" _

"Well, it's not so much where, as _when." _

"What the hell do you mean?"

"The angels zap you into the past and let you live to death, I said that already. However, we don't know_ when_ he was sent, so we can't get him," The Doctor explained.

"You're kidding me. You've got to be fudging KIDDING ME." Dean yelled. He ran into the TARDIS, and in his adrenaline he twisted a piece of metal off a railing near the door and ran back outside.

"Dean, what are you doing?!" The Doctor called.

"This is for Sam!" Dean yelled as he began hitting the angel with the metal bar. The statue began crumbling.

"No, Dean stop!" Rose called.

"It's too late," The old man sadly remarked. The Weeping Angel lay in pieces at Dean's feet.

"That's a bad thing, isn't it?" John commented.

"Yes. According to The Doctor, it is." Sherlock remarked.

"I killed it, didn't I?" Dean exclaimed. "It's dead, it can't do any harm!"

"Yes, it can, Dean. It can do so much. See? You coughed." The Doctor pointed out.

"I was clearing my throat."

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"Dean, don't fight him. The angel is inside you now," The old man said, patting Dean on the back.

"Okay, hold on a sec, Who the hell are you?" Dean exclaimed.

"You don't recognize me?" The old man searched Dean's eyes. Dean, it's me, Sam."

* * *

CHAPTER 9

"No. not possible. I saw Sam just a _minute ago_ and you _ARE NOT _him."

"The doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and quickly scanned the old man, "It's Sam alright, just 82-year-old Sam."

"Okay maybe it is Sam, but what the _hell_ is that?" Dean demanded.

The doctor looked down at the small metal rod in his hand. "Oh, this… is a Sonic Screwdriver."

"A sonic _screwdriver?"_ Dean challenged, before coughing slightly.

"Yes a sonic screwdriver. It's good with locks," The Doctor replied.

"Also, I imagine, a great solution for boredom and cabinet building," Sherlock mused, smiling mischievously.

The Doctor perked up, "Actually that's how I got the idea. You see-"

"No, no Doctor we have other issues right now. For example, Dean?' Rose interjected.

"Oh right…" The Doctor paused thoughtfully.

"So, what the hell is wrong with me?" Dean demanded.

"The angel is inside you now, _Well _not really. _WELL…_" The Doctor paused, "It's complicated."

"The angel cannot truly die by physical means. You've smashed it, but it's not dead. It's just dormant. You breathed in some of the _living dust_ and now the angel is growing inside you," Sam explained.

"Sam, how did you know all that?" Dean inquired.

"Well, I had sixty years to research just what the hell zapped me into the past."

"Sixty years exactly?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "We can go get you!" Dean exclaimed before coughing violently.

"No, we can't," John stated.

"Why not?" Rose asked.

"Because I'm a doctor and he's just coughed up blood so no, we're not going anywhere." Everyone turned to look at Dean, who, sure enough, had a good amount of blood trickling out of his mouth.

"Is this the angel's doing?" John asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Sam replied.

"Well this fudging sucks," Dean spluttered.

"No, don't talk, don't let the angel get your voice," Sam insisted.

"What?" Dean asked, startled.

"No! Shush! The angel is taking over your body and trying to make room for itself. Angels don't have blood, so it's trying to get rid of yours. Talking will alert it to your voice, and it will try to take it because your voice is an abstract thing. It exists, in a sense, on another plane of existence. Having a voice allows us to _be _higher beings. In the whole wide universe, there are creatures that would KILL to have a voice. Basically, having your voice would make the angel a TON more powerful, and all that is left of Dean would be _smothered_ in an _instant_," Sam explained.

His eyes wide, Dean nodded his consent.

"What can we do for him?" John asked.

"More importantly, where did you learn all of that, Sam?" The Doctor inquired.

"I found people who knew things, I did have sixty years, after all," Sam replied.

"I hate to break up your reminiscing, but according to him, Dean is _dying_ and we're not doing anything to fix that!" John interjected.

"Oh right… okay let's get this sorted out. Er…" The Doctor started.

"If the angel is trying to suppress Dean, then wouldn't the simplest way to cure him be to suppress the angel to a point of non-existence?" Sherlock offered.

"It's not that simple!" The Doctor replied.

"actually, it theoretically is," Sam commented.

"Yes, theoretically. However it would be nearly impossible to suppress the angel mentally. Maybe if we'd have started the process _right _when he breathed the angel in, but not now. _Well,_ there's a slight chance, but not really. Physically suppressing the angel _IS_ impossible-" The Doctor rambled.

"What about ejecting the angel?" John asked, interrupting The Doctor's rant.

"Oh. OH. That just might work!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"How the hell are you going to _eject _the angel?!" Dean asked.

"I told you SHUSH!" Sam commanded, covering Dean's blood-covered mouth with his old, wrinkled hand. Dean rolled his eyes playfully, but complied.

"The most typical method of ejection of this sort would be vomiting or having his stomach pumped," John replied. He turned to Sam. "Where would the, uh, angel, be located?"

"Largely in his lungs. There would be a bit in his stomach and now that the angel is taking over, there would some in his bloodstream," Sam answered.

"Well this is just great," John muttered, looking at his feet.

"There's got to be some other way!" Rose insisted, trying to meet everyone's gaze, but they all looked down or away. Except for Sherlock. His head was locked in one place staring with eyes half-closed at a place just beyond his feet. His hands were steepled under his chin and he was completely oblivious to the world. Rose stared at him quizzically for a moment before John noticed.

"Oh, that. Mind palace. He's thinking," John loosely explained.

"Right, the stroke of genius we're all waiting for," Rose smiled slightly and looked down at her feet.

"Shut up, I'm thinking," Sherlock muttered, silencing his companions.

All was quiet for a moment, until Dean started coughing again. This wasn't like all the times he had coughed before. This was a wretched, hacking cough that sent him to all fours. Blood poured from his mouth.

Sherlock's head snapped up, "I've got it," He said quietly.

"Well what the _bloody hell _is it?" John demanded.

"A solution," Sherlock replied.

"Tell us, Sherlock!" Rose pleaded.

"It's just a theory, and besides, it would kill him!"

* * *

(A/N) I'm just going to casually point out my reference to the episode _Midnight_...


	4. Part 4

(A/N) aaannd here we have part four of five. yay! I just want to point out that this is by far my favorite section of the story, I hope you think so to. I think I explain everything decently, but if I didn't, please let me know. Thank you for reading, and have a nice day!

* * *

CHAPTER 10

"Well then how the hell is it a solution?!" John yelled in frustration.

"It would remove the angel from him, but it would almost certainly kill him in the process," Sherlock explained.

"Seeing as how I'm dying anyway, what harm can it do?" Dean spluttered through a mouthful of blood.

Sherlock turned to The Doctor, "Your TARDIS, it has a heart or an overriding power source, yes?"

"Yes…" The Doctor replied hesitantly.

"This power source is what the angels want. The angel inside Dean is weak, seeing as it is currently dust. If we were to expose him to the heart of your TARDIS the angel would leave him, go into the heart, and very possibly be destroyed. However, being exposed to said power would kill Dean due to radiation, or your Time-Lord equivalent of radiation."

"How do we know the angle will go into the heart?" John asked.

"Angels are greedy, if it sees that much power within its reach, it will go there," Sam answered, looking at The Doctor for confirmation. He nodded and Sam continued, "Your idea is feasible, but I do agree, being exposed to the heart of the TARDIS is extremely dangerous."

"I've done it."

"What?" John turned to Rose with a look of confusion plastered on his face in light of her comment.

"I've looked into the heart of the TARDIS."

"Yes, and you almost died," The Doctor pointed out.

"But I didn't. I didn't die, Jack didn't die, only the Daleks died."

"I died." Everyone went quiet and looked at The Doctor. Rose looked at her feet. "I died to save you. Or rather, he did, seeing as he's dead. So yeah, let's let Dean look into the heart and throw away another regeneration. You know, they have limits." The Doctor paused and cocked his head slightly. "Am I being rude?" He turned to walk toward the TARDIS. "Rude and not ginger," He muttered. He pushed open the door and looked over his shoulder, "Anybody coming with me to save the Winchesters?"

They all followed him into the small blue box, John and Rose supporting Dean's limp figure between them.

"Doctor," Rose started as she and John leaned Dean up against the railing near the console. "What changed your mind? A minute ago you were completely against the idea, now you're all for it. What changed?"

"Well, you see, the TARDIS is a smart girl. She knows when she's needed. You almost died because you absorbed all of the energy of the TARDIS and the time vortex, and no one is supposed to do that. HOWEVER, other…things have seen her heart and have come out completely fine. I suspect it will be so with Dean." The Doctor put his ear to the TARDIS console, "She'll open for you Dean, come here."

"I'd love to, but seeing as my legs just turned to stone, I don't think that's entirely possible!"

"What?" John exclaimed, reaching down to touch Dean's ankle. "He's not stone. Doctor, what the hell is going on?"

"It's the angel. It's affecting his perception." The Doctor ran over to Dean and knelt in front of him. "Dean, listen to me. You're Dean Winchester, you need to save Sam. You can't do that if you turn to stone, can you?"

"Doctor, I'm not a child."

"True, but the point still stands. You can't save Sam unless you don't turn to stone, so stand up."

"Lovely point, but I am stone, so… yeah."

"Dean, stand up."

"I can't!"

"John, help me." John nodded and grabbed one of Dean's arms while The Doctor grabbed the other. They pulled Dean to his feet. "There, see? Not stone. Now get over here," The Doctor pushed Dean over to the TARDIS console. He turned to everyone else, "There's going to be a very bright light, Don't look at it! Got it?" Everyone nodded, and he turned back to the console. Carefully he turned a small knob, and quickly stepped back. A door flew open and a brilliant yellow light filled the room. Everyone ducked and covered their eyes as Dean let out an ear-splitting scream of anguish.

* * *

CHAPTER 11

The light ended abruptly and Dean crumpled to the floor. The Doctor and Sam hurried over to him. The Doctor grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over so he was lying face-up.

"Dean, Dean can you hear me?" The Doctor asked, shaking him slightly. Dean moaned and his eyes cracked open. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and a boyish grin spread across Sam's old, wrinkled face.

"Dean, you scream like a girl," He teased, lightly punching Dean in the shoulder. Dean glared at him, before attempting to sit up. He managed to prop himself up on one elbow.

"So, was that everything? Do we just go home now?" John asked.

"Well, first we should go get Sam, but if you two don't want to come, then I can drop you off back at Baker Street," The Doctor said.

"Yes, that would be-" Sherlock started.

"ACTUALLY, we'd love to go see 1946," John interrupted, looking at his friend pointedly.

"We would?" Sherlock quietly asked John.

"Yes, we would. Now be quiet."

"Well in that case, we'll be off-" The Doctor stopped. There was a scratching coming from outside the TARDIS door. Everyone froze.

"Doctor, what is that?" Rose asked her eyes wide with fright.

"I hope I'm wrong, but it might be the angel," The Doctor replied.

Dean groaned, "So I killed that son of a bitch for nothing?!"

"It does appear so," Sherlock said. "However, seeing as it is now in pieces, it should be much less of a threat."

"But it's a hell of a lot scarier," John muttered.

The scratching continued at the door. "Doctor, what are we going to do?" Rose asked softly.

There was a moment of tense silence before The Doctor spoke. "I don't exactly know. I've never had to deal with this before." He gave a sideways glace to Dean, who shrugged innocently.

The knocking at the door became more persistent. The door began rattling. Dean struggled to his feet. "If we're looking at it, it can't move, right?" Dean asked.

"Right," The Doctor replied.

"So then why the hell aren't we looking at it?" Dean exclaimed.

"That is a very good point, let's open the door," The Doctor ran for the door and threw it open. The angel's two arms were lying on the ground, very close to the door. Its head, which had been broken into two large pieces, held an expression of rage.

"Well, now that it can't move, what do we do?" John asked.

"Separate the pieces," Sherlock offered. "If we can put the pieces in locations where they cannot escape, or will always have something looking at them, they will not have the ability to harm anyone else."

"Brilliant, Sherlock! Just brilliant! I really should keep you around more often," The Doctor exclaimed. He glanced back at Rose. "Do we have any giant metal-"

"DOCTOR!" she shouted, interrupting him. He turned back to look outside.

"What?" He asked, scanning the area.

"Oh my fudging god you have got to be kidding me!" Dean blurted. The Doctor looked down at his feet.

Only one of the angel's arms could be seen.

* * *

CHATPER 12

"Oh no," The Doctor breathed. "Rose! Come here, I need you to look at the angel. Don't take your eyes off it!" The Doctor yelled. Rose ran up to the door, and the Doctor ran back in. "The other arm is probably in the TARDIS somewhere. If we can find it quickly we might be able to avoid disaster!"

"_Might?"_ John asked skeptically.

"Yes, might." The doctor replied.

"That's not extremely reassuring," John muttered as he and everyone else began to scan the TARDIS.

"We're never going to find it if we don't know where to look," Sam commented, twisting to look up at the ceiling despite his hunched back.

"True…" The Doctor muttered, "Angels are clever."

"This one is likely lying in wait, it won't stay hidden for long," Sherlock mused.

There was silence for a moment. A moment that was all too short.

"Oh no," Sam breathed from behind Dean. "Oh, please no," His old voice became choked with tears. Dean slowly turned around.

"Sam, what is it?" Dean asked, his voice tinged with fear.

"Dean, listen to me. Whatever happens next, don't try and stop it."

"Sam, what's going on?"

"You're going to want to stop it, you can't," A single tear streamed down his wrinkled face. "I waited my whole life to see you again, Dean. You were worth the wait. Take ca-" Sam's feet were abruptly pulled out from under him and his frail body hit the ground. Without pause he was dragged over the edge of the platform by an unseen hand.

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled as he ran to the edge and jumped down after his brother Sherlock and The Doctor followed.

Sam was lying, pinned to the ground, the angel's stone hand at his throat. His eyes were wide with fear.

Dean knelt by his aged brother and began attempting to pry the angel's hand away from Sam's neck. "I'll get you out of this, Sammy," Dean promised. But the arm wouldn't budge.

"No…" Sam whispered, "you can't…save me…"

"Don't talk like that, I CAN save you!"

"No. blink… blink and let me go."

"Dammit Sam I'm not going to lose you twice!" Dean exclaimed as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"Sam's right," The doctor quietly interjected, "you have to let him go."

Dean shook his head in protest, "No. It was my job to protect you! I can't just…"

"Let me go," Sam whispered. Dean closed his eyes and a single tear ran down his cheek.


	5. Part 5

(A/N) This is the last part in this fic. But don't be alarmed, (you don't have to be… it's not that good so I don't blame you if you're glad it's over) I do plan on created a SuperWhoLock series. Multiple fics. Obviously this is the first one. If you have any suggestions, I am open to suggestions. Thanks for reading, you guys are awesome. Live happy lives and enjoy the finale of this piece!

* * *

CHAPTER 13

The angel's arm still clung to Sam's lifeless form.

"What's going on down there?" Rose called from where she and John stood at the doorway, guarding the angel.

"Dean's brother just died, so noting too huge," Sherlock said.

"What?!" John replied. "Sherlock I've told you, when people die it's kind of a big deal!"

"Well we can just go get his brother from 1946, so no, it's not a big deal," Sherlock countered.

"Well… just get up here and stare at this angel for a second, will you?" John demanded. Sherlock gave a small, exasperated sigh and walked up to the doorway to take John's place. John ran down to where The Doctor stood next to the two Winchester brothers. He crouched down next to Dean. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor," He said reassuringly to Dean. Dean nodded and continued to stare at the angel's arm while John examined Sam. After a minute or so, John stood up.

"Broken neck. What I don't understand is that you," he turned to The Doctor, "said that when they touch you they zap you into the past. So why is Sam still here?"

"Well, the angels don't _always _send you to the past, that's just how they feed. If an angel is angry then it kills," The Doctor clarified. John nodded in understanding.

"So when are we going to get rid of this fudging angel so we can go get my brother?" Dean demanded.

"As soon as we can come up with a better solution than your last idea," Dean could practically hear the smirk on Sherlock's face.

"It's not funny, Sherlock," Dean grumbled.

"As for getting rid of this angel, which is the most pressing matter, any ideas?"

"I don't know if this is helpful, but I think the angel is significantly weaker all broken up like this," Rose mentioned.

"What if we separated them? And locked them up so they couldn't move?" John suggested.

"Iron cases that are only open able from the outside. We could put angel parts in them and bury them in various places," Dean added.

"Brilliant!" The Doctor exclaimed. "I have no idea if this will work, but the chances are very highly in our favor!"

"Well that's comforting," Dean muttered.

"Theoretically, if we lock the angel up, over years of isolation it would starve to death," Sherlock commented.

"Yes! But no, they can't actually starve to death, but this plan just gets better and better!" The Doctor ran and stood by Rose. "Now, do you know where I put all those huge metal boxes?"

"I didn't know you even owned huge metal boxes!" Rose exclaimed.

"Well you're helpful," The Doctor smiled teasingly.

"I would have something in the Impala if Sam…" Dean turned to glare at his brother, but upon realizing his brother wasn't there he turned his head down to glare at his shoes.

"Sherlock? Do you have anything?" John asked.

"Actually, yes."

"Why…?" John shook his head. "Do I really want to know?"

"Well, due to your previous indisposition towards knowing what I was doing, I would assume not," Sherlock replied.

"Well, where are they?" John asked.

"Barts. I gave them to Molly, it's likely she could have found a good use for them," Sherlock said.

"To Barts it is then," John said.

"I'll stay back and watch the angel," Rose offered. She looked at Dean, "Care to join me?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

"Sherlock, John and I will be back in just a few minutes," The Doctor kissed Rose lightly on the cheek, "Be safe, okay?"

Rose smiled, "Doing otherwise never crossed my mind."

Sherlock leaned over to John, "Sentiment?"

"Yes, now be quiet," John replied.

The three that were leaving ducked out of the TARDIS and headed toward the main road. Sherlock hailed a cab and they all climbed in. "Barts," Sherlock commanded. The cabbie nodded and started driving.

"Do either of you have change?" The Doctor inquired.

"Ummm, no." Sherlock replied.

John sighed, "I've got cash." The cab pulled up at Barts, and John paid as the other two climbed out. They walked into the morgue and found Molly in the middle of an autopsy. She looked up when they entered.

"Sherlock! I wasn't expecting you," Molly stuttered.

"That's because I didn't plan to come. Where are the boxes?" Sherlock inquired.

"What boxes? And who is that man?" she gestured to The Doctor, "and I'm busy!"

"The iron boxes I gave you a couple weeks ago. That's The Doctor, yes that's his name or at least what he goes by, he's a time traveling alien. Yes I'm aware that you are working, I just need to know where you put the boxes."

"They're, they're in the back storage room," Molly spluttered. Sherlock turned and started walking.

"Thanks, Molly," John said as he and The Doctor followed suit.

"Wait, did you say _alien?" _Molly called after them as they disappeared into the storage room.

* * *

CHAPTER 14

Rose glanced up quickly when she heard the beeping of a large truck in reverse. The truck stopped a few meters away, and John and The Doctor climbed out.

"We've got the boxes, where's Dean?" The Doctor asked.

"Inside with Sam," Rose replied. The Doctor nodded.

"John! Get one of the boxes!" He called over his shoulder. John nodded and opened the back of the truck. He grabbed one of the smaller iron boxes and followed The Doctor into the TARDIS.

"Dean! We're back!" The Doctor called.

"Boxes?" Dean asked. John lifted the one he was holding to show him. "Good. I got the arm off his neck," Dean gingerly held out the stone arm, keeping his eyes fixed on it. John opened the box, and Dean dropped the arm in. John quickly closed the box. Immediately the box jolted as the arm frantically tried to break its way out. Dean hurriedly locked the box and all three men breathed a sigh of relief. Dean took the box from John and tucked it firmly under his arm, the banging still persistent.

The Doctor turned to walk out of the TARDIS, but John spoke out. "Doctor, what are we going to do with Sam?" The Doctor stopped and sighed.

"Well, when we go pull Sam out of 1964, this Sam will disappear, because he never will have existed."

"What about us? Will we remember all of this if it never happened? And can we at least wrap him in a blanket? I don't like seeing him like this…" Dean trailed off, glancing back at his brother's body.

"Perks of TARDIS travel, you will remember everything, and yes, we can wrap Sam up," The Doctor's eyes shone with a deep sadness for a moment. He snapped back. "Wait here for just a second." He ran off into one of the many corridors, and returned with a large, white, cotton blanket.

Wordlessly, they wrapped Sam and left the TARDIS.

…

Outside, Rose and Sherlock had done a significant amount of angel-cleanup. Only a few large pieces, including the head, remained.

"Nice work!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Thanks," Rose replied, stil staring at a large chunk of stone at her feet. "Can you help us move these? They're really heavy."

"Sure," Dean replied, setting down his own box and moving over to Rose. The Doctor and John walked over to Sherlock and began helping him.

Soon, all the various angel parts were packed in their various boxes. The air was loud with the sound of banging as they tried to escape their small metal prisons.

"Considering the potential danger if the angel were to have gotten to the core of your TARDIS, is it practical that we fly these pieces through time?" Sherlock mused.

"Ehrm… probably not…" The Doctor replied, somewhat hesitantly.

"Well then what the hell do we do with them?" Dean demanded.

"We could always just bury them in various places around London," John suggested. "We do have a truck."

"Well let's do it then," The Doctor beamed, his contagious smile spreading to everyone else. They loaded the back of the truck.

"So my one question is, isn't it illegal to just go bury stuff in random places?" Dean asked after they had finished.

"Oh yeah…" The Doctor looked into space, thinking.

"We could drive into the countryside and just discreetly use some fields," Rose suggested.

"Illegal still, but yeah that could work," John confirmed.

"I know someone. He owes me a favor, we could use his land," Sherlock said.

"Where?" The Doctor asked.

"A few miles north of here. It won't take that long."

"Sounds good. Everybody in!" The Doctor called. Everyone piled into the truck with John at the wheel.

"Stupid Brits, driving on the wrong side," Dean muttered as John pulled the truck into traffic.

Using Sherlock as navigation, they eventually reached a small farmhouse. "We're here," John pulled the truck over and brought it to a stop.

"Everybody out!" John called as the five adults climbed out of a too-small space.

"It feels good to be out of there," Rose said, stretching.

"If I had to be in there any longer..." Dean left the phrase open to let their imaginations fill in the blanks.

"It was only an hour, Dean," The Doctor reasoned.

"Yeah. Only." Dean scoffed.

"Are you going to stop bickering, or am I going to have to do this on my own?" Sherlock asked.

"No, no, we're coming." John replied, heading down the front path after Sherlock. The others followed.

Sherlock knocked and a round-faced, middle aged man opened the door. "Sherlock! It's so good to see you!" His accent was very heavily Scottish, but his words slurred together, making him difficult to understand.

"I need a favor."

"Yes, anything for an old friend!" the man smiled, showing crooked, yellowing teeth.

"Can we bury some things in your fields?" Sherlock asked. The man was taken aback.

"You want to… what?" he stammered.

"We have several Iron boxes we need to bury. We were wondering if we could use your fields," Sherlock explained.

"We'll bury them deep enough that they don't disturb your crops," John piped in.

"Okay," the man smiled, "They're all yours."

"Thank you," John returned the smile. They headed back down the path and began unloading the truck.

"How many acres of land does he have?" Rose asked.

"Fourteen, and we've got sixteen boxes, so it should work out okay," John replied.

…

Several hours of hard work later, every box but the head was buried.

"What do reckon we do with this one, Doctor?" Rose asked, holding the restless box in her lap.

"What if we just took this one back in time?" John suggested.

"Yeah, wouldn't that weaken the rest of it?" Dean said.

"It probably would… yeah let's do that," The Doctor picked up the box. "Everybody back in the car!"

Dean groaned, "Not the fudging truck again!"

* * *

CHAPTER 15

"So, we'll just drop this in 1946, so we can pick Sam up at the same time, and minimize flying time," The Doctor glanced at Dean, who glared in return.

"That's probably a good idea," Rose confirmed, nodding.

"Okay then. 1946, here we come!" The Doctor exclaimed. The TARDIS lurched and Dean fell against the railing.

"I thought you said this wasn't like flying an airplane!" Dean yelled.

"It's not!" The Doctor called as he danced around the center console.

"Ugh, this is terrible…" Dean moaned. The screeching of the brakes indicated their landing. "Please tell me it's over…"

The Doctor opened the door, "We made it, October 1946."

"Where do you think Sam is going to be?" Rose asked.

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. "I… I don't know…"

"Well let's go get rid of this head, then we can look for Sam," Sherlock clapped his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Should we just bury it in the same field we did all the other ones?" John asked.

"No… we could probably just find a nice grove of trees and put it there," The Doctor said.

"Well let's get looking," Dean said, "We're still in the same park, aren't we?"

"We should be," The Doctor nodded.

"So how about right there?" Rose asked, gesturing to a small cluster of trees.

"Not ideal, but if we're careful, it will work." Sherlock answered. Dean ran back into the TARDIS and grabbed a shovel.

"Let's do this," He said, swinging the shovel onto his shoulder. John picked up the iron case and they walked to the grove. Dean dug a hole about four feet deep and they dropped the box inside. He was filling the hole back in when he heard it.

The soft snap of a twig and an exhale of a name.

"Dean?"

His head snapped up. "Sam? SAM!" Dean abandoned the shovel and ran for his brother before enveloping him in a hug. "How long has it been? For you."

"About two months, I had to get a job."

Dean smirked, "A job? Wow Sammy, I'm impressed."

"Heh, yeah. It hasn't been that bad."

Rose ran up next to them. "Sam! It's so good to see you!" She said, wrapping her arms around him. Sam gave Dean a sideways glance. Dean shrugged, as if to say, 'just go with it.'

* * *

CHAPTER 16

The Doctor bounded into the TARDIS followed by everyone else. "Next stop, 2006!" he exclaimed, slamming his hand onto a button. The TARDIS lurched into flight.

"Would it kill you to warn me?" Dean exclaimed, glaring. Sam nudged Dean in the side.

"I still have that mp3 player if you want it," he whispered.

"Shut it, Sammy."

The brakes squealed and the TARDIS landed. Dean was the first one out.

"Solid ground. Thank goodness." He muttered.

"Well, we'd better be off. Sherlock actually has a case now," John said after checking his phone. "Lestrade," he said to Sherlock, who nodded.

"We'll be seeing you tow again. Bye!" Rose said.

"I look forward to it," John smiled, and Rose blushed.

"Well, I guess I'll have to put up with you again so, later, asshole," Dean said, lightly punching Sherlock in the shoulder, who gave him a quizzical look.

Sherlock turned to John, "Scotland yard?" John nodded. "Goodbye then." Sherlock and john turned and walked away.

"It's been fun." Rose said.

"Yeah… fun…" Dean muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?" Sam asked.

"no." Dean replied. There was silence for a moment.

"Well, goodbye boys. I'm going to say this now, but everything that happens in the next few months, just stay strong." The Doctor counseled. He grabbed Rose's hand. "Well, where to now?"

She giggled, "Surprise me." He grinned in return and they ran back into the TARDIS. It dematerialized.

"Back home?" Sam aksed.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "And don't do that again."

"What?"

"Don't die on me. Ever again."

Confusion clouded Sam's face, "I'll try not to."

THE END

* * *

(A/N) So. This fic takes place two months before Sam dies and Dean sells his soul to save him. Just to give you feels.


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